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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22698508">maybe you're better off on my own</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustandswimmingpools/pseuds/stardustandswimmingpools'>stardustandswimmingpools</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sam &amp; Cat (TV), iCarly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amicable Breakup, Bisexual Female Character, Communication, Established Relationship, F/F, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, References to Canon, Romantic Friendship, The killer tuna jump NEVER HAPPENED, addressing canon events maturely, also addresses the whole 'being locked in a safe room' thing, bc holy SHIT that was a Traumatic Thing that got glossed over by sitcom, cat is PROBABLY ALSO BI, elements of sitcom life, i wrote this at midnight while listening to lewis capaldi, is it a coda? is it a fix-it? is it straight up divergence? who knows, rating for language haha, sam is bi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:09:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22698508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustandswimmingpools/pseuds/stardustandswimmingpools</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Freddie visits.<br/>-<br/>Sam should probably have waited for Freddie to outgrow his awkward-teen phase before introducing him to her current girlfriend. Unfortunately, if she’d tried to wait that out, she might have been waiting forever.<br/>All things considered, it’s a good thing Cat isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, because when Sam says (with due hesitance), “This is my roommate and girlfriend, Cat,” Freddie’s expression is appalled enough that anyone else would be offended.<br/>Cat just grins and does a small giggle. “Hi!” she says, waving cheerfully. “I’m Cat, Sam’s roommate and girlfriend!”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cat Valentine &amp; Freddie Benson, Freddie Benson &amp; Sam Puckett, Sam Puckett/Cat Valentine, Sam Puckett/Freddie Benson (past)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>maybe you're better off on my own</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>honest to god, Divinely Uninspired To A Hellish Extent is THE ALBUM for this fic. specifically hollywood, before you go, and maybe. FUCK i love that album.<br/>not gonna lie i wrote this after watching the episode of sam &amp; cat where freddie visits because canon did not deliver hope you enjoy and don't laugh at me for writing sam &amp; cat fanfiction</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sam should probably have waited for Freddie to outgrow his awkward-teen phase before introducing him to her current girlfriend. Unfortunately, if she’d tried to wait that out, she might have been waiting forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All things considered, it’s a good thing Cat isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, because when Sam says (with due hesitance), “This is my roommate and girlfriend, Cat,” Freddie’s expression is appalled enough that anyone else would be offended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cat just grins and does a small giggle. “Hi!” she says, waving cheerfully. “I’m Cat, Sam’s roommate and girlfriend!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie’s mouth is still hanging open. Sam slaps him. “Get it together, Benson,” she says. “You’re catching flies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Freddie blusters, and immediately sticks a hand out. “Ah, I’m Freddie Benson. Sam’s, um, friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know!” Cat says. “She told me you were coming. I’m so excited to have you here! We never have guests!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cat,” Sam says, “Dice and Goomer are here all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We never have </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleepover</span>
  </em>
  <span> guests,” Cat says impatiently, like it’s an obvious distinction that Sam should have drawn. Sam sighs and turns her attention back to Freddie. He has recovered slightly from the slap and slightly less from the “this is my girlfriend” line, but he still looks entirely out of his element. Sam throws him a bone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re here,” she says begrudgingly. “I’ve missed you idiots.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wonders belatedly if being sentimental will send Freddie further </span>
  <em>
    <span>into</span>
  </em>
  <span> his stupor, but it seems to do the trick. He shakes his head a little and then smiles, and Sam sees that same old Freddie Benson she fell in love with a million years ago when he quirks his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” he says, “love really </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> change a girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m hugging you now, so don’t break my arms.” And he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is so, so easy to fit right back into Freddie’s arms, and Sam pretends to tense up against his embrace until he’s all wrapped around her, and then she rests her cheek on his shoulder and exhales.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Group hug!” Cat proclaims, enthusiastically glomming onto Sam’s back. Sam snorts a laugh and reaches back with one hand to tangle with Cat’s fingers, and it’s pretty much perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Almost perfect. Sam misses Carly like a lost limb, but one thing at a time.)</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam tells the story of Nona folding her into the sofa with exaggerations in all the scariest parts, then tells Freddie he will be sleeping on the sofa. Freddie looks terrified at the prospect of being folded into a couch, but Cat gently hits Sam on the arm and promises she will not allow Sam to do anything of the sort to Freddie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Sam winks at Freddie behind Cat’s back, restoring the appropriate amount of terror to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, when does Carly get in?” she prompts. “I need my girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, Carly!” Cat says brightly. “That’s your other friend from Seattle, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup,” Sam says, drawing out the y and popping the p. “My sister from another mister. Coming in hot from Italy, baby!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Freddie says to Cat, “I thought you said you watched </span>
  <em>
    <span>iCarly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cat gasps. “Oh my goodness!” she says. “Your friend Carly is </span>
  <em>
    <span>iCarly </span>
  </em>
  <span>Carly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a long moment of silence. Sam turns and stares at Cat. Freddie also stares at Cat. Cat continues to look amazed that Sam’s best friend Carly has turned out to be Carly Shay from the hit webshow </span>
  <em>
    <span>iCarly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m confused,” Freddie says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to my world,” Cat says solemnly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam tilts her head onto Cat’s shoulder, partially to see Freddie do a double take, and pulls a grin that is as close to the Cheshire Cat’s as is physically possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Benson, let’s see how many skills you still got from back in the day,” she says, kicking at his leg with her Converse. “Go heat me up some chicken, slave boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that what a girlfriend is for?” Freddie snarks with zero bite. He stands up regardless, just like Sam knew he would, and ambles towards the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, girlfriends are for cuddling and making out,” Sam deadpans. Freddie almost trips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam,” Cat admonishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be mean to Freddie! He’s your friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But then </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>is he good for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cat blushes and giggles. “You said you weren’t going to antagonize Freddie while he’s here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No,</span>
  </em>
  <span> what I said was that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> antagonize Freddie as much as I see fit, because he’s a big boy and I have to make up for all the months I haven’t seen him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Cat says. “I must have heard you wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must have,” Sam says, and leans in to give Cat a quick kiss, because she can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she looks up, Freddie is pressing buttons on the microwave, deliberately not looking at them.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Literally the </span>
  <em>
    <span>second</span>
  </em>
  <span> the door closes behind Cat, Freddie whirls around and pins Sam with a stare that Sam really isn’t sure even </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> could evade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really happy for you and stuff, but oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span> I have questions,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam waves as if to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Freddie says slowly. “Are you a lesbian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam wrinkles her entire face up and smacks Freddie with a pillow. “No! What kind of stupid question is that? We dated, you dingbat, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow, dude!” Freddie grabs the pillow and tosses it aside. “I’ve seen it happen! Sometimes girls realize they’re lesbians </span>
  <em>
    <span>after</span>
  </em>
  <span> they’ve dated a guy! It happened on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Glee</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” like this is a legitimate justification. “I’m not accusing you or anything, okay, I just want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My favorite part of all the dumb garbage you just said is that you admitted to watching </span>
  <em>
    <span>Glee,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Sam says. Freddie rolls his eyes. “Look, dude, I’m not a lesbian. I liked you; now I like Cat. These things work like this sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie looks down at his lap, hands squashed between his knees. Sam tries not to think too hard about it, because if she scans his face she can still read him like an open children’s book with font so big and words so short even Goomer could read it. Freddie is achingly familiar. Even being here with him right now hurts in a way it shouldn’t be possible to hurt; like she misses him in advance, already prepared for when he flies back to Seattle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like all the feelings going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she,” Freddie starts and then stops. Sam pokes his shoulder. Freddie swats her hand away with a glare. “Is she, um, the reason you stayed in LA?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam opens her mouth and closes it. She wonders if Freddie can read her as easily as she can read him. All her life, Sam has been told she’s extremely good at acting aloof, but it’s always been different with Freddie (and Carly), and they both know that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wonders if he can sense her uncertainty.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did</span>
  </em>
  <span> she stay for Cat? It’s tempting to say yes. Yes, she’d stayed in Los Angeles for love instead of returning to Seattle, to her deadbeat, disgusting mother and her absent best friend and her one and only heartbreak. She’d parked her bike in the City of Angels without looking back because it was love at first sight with a garbage-covered redhead girl named after a domesticated animal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would probably be nicer to tell Freddie that Cat is the reason she stayed in LA. But it wouldn’t be true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she says. “Come on, Benson, you know why I didn’t come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Humor me,” Freddie says, crossing his arms over his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam groans and flops back against the throw pillow. “Because there was jack shit left in Seattle for me, man! My mom was, well, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>mom</span>
  </em>
  <span>, my ex-boyfriend was kissing my best friend, and my best friend was moving to Italy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Freddie says, his voice strangled, “you — you know about the kiss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we, eleven? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Carly told me you guys kissed,” Sam says flatly. “Which, gross. By the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She kissed me,” Freddie says quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, I don’t care who kissed who. It’s in the past. Water under the ol’ bridge. We all did dumb, emotional crap when Carly left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Freddie says determinedly. “I mean, yes. I mean the </span>
  <em>
    <span>kiss</span>
  </em>
  <span> is in the past, but — seriously? You’re telling me you never thought about what it was like for us? For me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam blanches. “What are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something in Freddie’s exasperated, tired, slightly injured look that reminds Sam very much of home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You rode off on a motorcycle the night Carly left,” he says. “Three days later, you texted me saying ‘living in LA now’ with no explanation. You just...disappeared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You lost one best friend, but I lost two!” Freddie snaps. His hand is curled tightly into a fist around the fabric of his jeans. “You and Carly both left, and I had no one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had Gibby,” Sam tries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Sam says. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, alright? You think it was easy for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Freddie explodes. “I do!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re wrong!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, fine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The abrupt silence hangs in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is kind of awkward,” Freddie says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam sighs heavily and slouches forward until her forehead hits on Freddie’s shoulder. “Ya think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it feels a little bit better now, airing out their dirty laundry like this, and maybe Freddie feels it too. He doesn’t say anything else, just brings a hand up to her shoulder and scratches his fingers against her back. Sam doesn’t feel butterflies like she might have a year ago, but it’s nice. Simple. Familiar. Freddie smells vaguely like wind and detergent. He smells clean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you too, you know,” Freddie finally says. “In case, I don’t know, you weren’t sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Sam says</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Who wouldn’t miss sweet mama Sam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie snorts. “Grow up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darers go first.” She pokes him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t poke me,” Freddie says, poking her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They devolve into poke-fighting, and then Sam jabs a finger into Freddie’s stomach and he doubles over, groaning, and Sam pats him on the back and jokingly instructs him to man up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Definitely better. Not perfect yet, but definitely better.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they tuck into bed that night, Cat lasts about three seconds before she whispers, “Sam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam groans as loudly as she possibly can to convey </span>
  <em>
    <span>I want to sleep.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re awake, I heard you groaning just now,” Cat whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was sleep-groaning,” Sam whispers back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a creak that means Cat’s getting out of bed, the muffled sound of Cat’s padded footsteps, and then Sam is shuffling over as Cat clambers into bed with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re messing up my whole vibe here,” Sam says, but she puts an arm around Cat and doesn’t protest when Cat snuggles into her side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Freddie your ex-boyfriend?” Cat asks quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam sighs. “Yeah. I was a real idiot of a freshman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cat shrugs. The motion drags her pajama shirt against Sam’s side. “Yup. Just curious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a better girlfriend than me,” Sam says, mentally trashing all the vengeance plans she’d sketched out for if she ever met any of Cat’s exes. She’s not even sure if Cat has any, but better safe than sorry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like him,” Cat says, evidently still on the topic of Freddie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your first mistake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s nice. And I’m excited to meet Carly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. You and Carly will get along great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cat doesn’t answer, just giggles lightly and makes a gentle sound of contentment against Sam’s collarbone. Moments later, she’s fast asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam looks down at Cat and can’t fight off the smile. “You really are a cat, huh,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to Cat’s forehead. “Alright, then. ‘Night, kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She drifts off to sleep with the warmth of Cat pressed solidly against her.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>In Sam’s dream, she’s back in the secret room behind the safe in her closet, except alone, this time, and the light won’t turn on, and every time she turns her head the room is smaller, the ceiling sinking, the walls closing in, and she opens her mouth to shout for Cat but no sound comes out, and then Sam jolts awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cat is still sound asleep, breathing softly. Sam takes a long, deep breath, trying to keep herself from tightening her grip on Cat. She feels frazzled. Maybe a glass of water will help. Or soda. No — Cat insists on no caffeinated drinks during sleep hours. Fine. Water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As carefully as she can, Sam detaches herself from Cat and swings her legs over the side of the bed, movements slow and sleepy. A glance at the clock confirms it’s nearly 2 a.m. A disgusting hour at which to be awoken, and an even more disgusting hour during which to stay awake, but she’s not eager to get back to that dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slips out the door as quietly as she can, leaving it open a crack so it doesn’t click and to make it easier to get back in when she goes back to bed. She tiptoes down the hallway until she’s far enough from their door that the floorboards won’t wake Cat (not that she necessarily thinks they will, but Cat gets more confused than usual when she’s awoken in the middle of the night, and Sam is not in the mood to try and explain to her for the umpteenth time what the difference is between a.m. and p.m.). As she rounds the corner that leads into the living room and kitchen, she nearly has a heart attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry,” Freddie says, his voice raspy with sleep. He clears his throat. “Just, uh, got thirsty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s standing in the kitchen, shirtless and in sweatpants, an empty glass in hand. Sam stares at him for a second, hand over her heart. “Jesus, Benson. Way to give a girl a heart attack. Put a shirt on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie traipses over to his bag and pulls a t-shirt out of it, tugging it over his head. “Sorry,” he says, sounding embarrassed. “I kinda figured I’d be up before you and I could get a shirt on before you ever had to see me in all my half-naked glory. Or, um, not glory. You know.” He coughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam laughs. The sound bounces around the quiet kitchen. She moves to turn the light on, then thinks better of it; something about the darkness feels warmer, safer. “Man. You really need to work on your moves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not doing moves,” Freddie defends. “Believe me, you’d know if I was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam just laughs again. She crosses the kitchen, reaching for her own glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you up?” Freddie asks. He holds out his cup to Sam, like she’s going to get him water just because she’s getting some for herself. Sam glances at the cup, then at Freddie, scoffs, and turns her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same as you. Got thirsty.” She flips the tap on, filling her cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, right. Think I don’t know you? You never wake up because you’re thirsty. You wake up because you had a bad dream, and you drink water to calm down.” When Sam whirls around to snap at Freddie, he’s leaning against the counter, looking smug. “I’ve got your number, Puckett.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, drink your water,” Sam says mulishly, shoving her glass of water into his hands. She takes his empty one and turns back around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something prods her back. “Wha-at,” Sam grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was the dream?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam turns on her heel and looks Freddie in the eye. “Well, you were there, and I was there, and I had a knife, and then I did things to you with it that no man should ever have to experience, and there was blood </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and —”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay fine,” Freddie says over her. He holds his hands up. “Don’t tell me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both sip their water in amicable silence. Freddie drains his first (intentional on Sam’s part; she still needs a minute) and puts the cup in the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slacker,” Sam accuses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your house, your dishes,” Freddie says. He smiles. “I’m going back to sleep, unless…?” He makes an ambiguous hand motion that could mean absolutely anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam quirks an eyebrow. “By all means.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie treks slowly to the pullout couch. Sam </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s testing her. She knows he’s waiting for her to talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few months back, Cat and I found this room,” she says, kind of hating herself for caving. Freddie immediately halts and turns around. He gestures for her to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s this safe in my closet,” Sam begins, and goes on to explain the story of the safe and the apocalypse room and Dice locking them in. By the time she’s done, Freddie’s moved from standing in the middle of the room to sitting on the edge of the sofa bed, with Sam standing in front of him, leaning against the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you had a bad dream about the apocalypse room?” Freddie summarizes, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam feels herself growing defensive. “Shut up, man, you don’t know what it was like. We had no idea how long we were gonna be in there. We could have died. I could have died and the last thing I would’ve eaten would have been old fruit. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fruit!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” She shudders. “It was awful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like a real struggle,” Freddie says. “Getting trapped in a small room with your girlfriend for an indeterminate amount of time. Boo hoo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re being an asshole,” Sam tells him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie rubs his face. “I know, I know. Sorry. It’s kind of my default around you, since you’re usually an asshole first. I have to be on guard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fair enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forget it,” Sam grumbles. “I’m going back to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no, wait, Sam.” Freddie grabs at her wrist as she turns to go. “Sorry, you’re right. It sounds like it was scary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam allows herself to be pulled back. “Yeah, you wazbag,” she says, but there’s no real heat behind it, and they both can tell. “It was. See if I don’t trap you in there, teach you a thing or two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie smiles. “There’s the Sam I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why are you up?” Sam asks, sitting on the bed next to him. “Don’t say thirsty. Takes a liar to know a liar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie huffs a laugh. “Just had a lot on my mind, I guess.” He pauses. Apropos of nothing apparent, he says, “Cat’s sweet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, she is,” Sam says, trying to sound weary about it. “She has other good qualities, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant it as a good thing. She seems good for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam grins. “You jealous, Benson? Want a piece of ol’ Sam Puckett? Once wasn’t enough for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie sputters. “No, I — you — what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam snickers. “Relax, I’m just joshin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Obviously.” Freddie clears his throat. “Well, uh, I’m gonna go back to bed. To sleep. I’m gonna go back to sleep in bed. If you’ll excuse me.” He stands abruptly and Sam stands with him, slower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, Fredward,” she says. “Cool your jets. I said I was joking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie doesn’t meet her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The penny drops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Sam says softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the stillness of the room, Sam feels like they’d just been on the verge of a moment and now they’ve tipped over the edge and they’re both free falling through thin air. It can’t just be Sam; Freddie looks like he’s genuinely failing to get a grip, eyes slightly panicked. Like he would try to refute it if it weren’t already so obvious by his nervous demeanor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t kill me,” Freddie says. He sounds downright miserable. It’s not like Sam is </span>
  <em>
    <span>tempted,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but her damage-control techniques usually do involve violence. “I thought I was over it, I swear to God, I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t. I didn’t know — I figured if I — I just, </span>
  <em>
    <span>man,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he finally lands on. He scrubs a hand across his face and through his hair. “Pretend we didn’t have this conversation? I know avoidance is your favorite tactic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is true. So Sam almost says </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure, goodnight,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and walks back to bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But something — possibly Cat’s voice in the back of her mind — compels her to not leave this broken off, dangling unfinished like the last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If Carly were here, she’d lock us in a closet until we talked it out,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie laughs uncomfortably. “Well, she’s not getting here until tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam nods. “Which is why we have to take the initiative and do it ourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really, really don’t want to,” Freddie says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, come on, dude! If we don’t talk about it, it’s gonna be hanging over our heads forever,” Sam whines. “It already </span>
  <em>
    <span>is.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Let’s just talk about it, get everything out in the open, and then afterward we’ll feel better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie makes the facial equivalent of pushing Sam away, so Sam makes the facial equivalent of breaking Freddie’s neck, and that does the trick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Freddie huffs. “But you start.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What — you started it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it was your idea. I don’t even want to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Benson, you’re making this difficult. Just say how you feel.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one in love with your ex-girlfriend!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both freeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-kay,” Sam says. “That’s a good start. Go from there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie buries his face in his hands. Muffled, he says, “No chance, Samantha. I’m not gonna be that guy who comes crawling back and wrecks your whole life just because he couldn’t get over himself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Benson, if you were capable of being a homewrecker, you’d have done it already,” Sam remarks. “I walked in on you shirtless in the middle of the night with no witnesses. If I was gonna break up with Cat for you, trust me, it’d already be done. My relationship with Cat is safe.” She takes a chance and reaches out, putting a light hand between Freddie’s shoulder blades. “My relationship with you is the question here. So just humor me and talk it out, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie squirms but doesn’t pull away from her touch, so Sam figures it’s okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there something in the LA water?” he asks suspiciously. “You’ve been very…mature about this whole thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like you said,” Sam says, “love changes a girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie exhales a laugh. “Okay, fine. Open hand, but you have to promise not to laugh, and you have to say everything you’re feeling too. No holds barred, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honesty hour,” Sam affirms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie doesn’t look her in the eyes, and privately Sam is grateful; she knows what she said about homewrecking, but Freddie’s eyes have a soul-searching earnesty that has never failed to disarm Sam, strip her to her core. “I’m still in love with you,” he says plainly. “I thought I was over you, but I guess I’m not. I was so fucking angry when you left, and hurt, and I guess that made me think I didn’t love you anymore, because I didn’t think it was possible to be so furious with someone and still love them. So I was wrong about that, I guess. And I’ve missed you like crazy this past year, so I really hope you don’t kick me out after this. I don’t think — I mean, I think I blew my chance. You being with Cat really threw me for a loop, but if you’re happy, then that’s good enough for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…Carly kissed me, and I kissed her back, and I have no clue what that meant or if she expects us to, like, be a thing. And before you ask, I don’t know if I still liked you when we kissed. Like you said — we all did dumb, emotional crap. It would be kind of shitty of me to go out with her now, though, after telling you this, wouldn’t it?” he glances up at Sam and Sam tilts her head, a silent acknowledgement. “Yeah. So, uh, I think that’s all I got. Your turn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gimme a second there, cowboy,” Sam says. “You just hit me with kind of a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing you couldn’t already tell from my face,” Freddie mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>True enough. Sam has been relatively avoiding Freddie’s face, though, largely </span>
  <em>
    <span>because</span>
  </em>
  <span> she can always tell exactly what he’s thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” she says slowly, “uh…I don’t know what to tell you. I lo— I really like Cat. I hate to say it, Freddie-o, but I think we missed our moment. I loved you before, obviously, when we were together, and…and for awhile after. But not anymore.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t think,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she keeps to herself. If she doesn’t look in his eyes, she can maintain that statement’s relative certainty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to answer any question I ask you honestly,” Freddie says seriously. “It’s honesty hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam wrinkles her forehead. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you think about — about me? Or, hell, about </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Before you rode south and, you know, abandoned your hometown forever?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why didn’t she just stop and </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a second? The answer is almost painfully easy. “Because I knew if I stopped and thought about it, I’d never leave, and I just really, really needed to get out.” She sighs. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand, ‘cause you were just in love with Carly, but she was my best friend. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and she has been since I can remember. She’s a piece of me, okay, and when she left, I just couldn’t — I couldn’t imagine going back to that apartment and her not being there, or going back to school without her, or…” She shakes her head. Carly is coming tomorrow, but that feels too far away and too close all at once. Part of her isn’t sure she’s ready, and the other part of her feels like it’s going to spontaneously combust from how much she misses Carly. “And then there was the whole thing with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and yeah, I liked you, but mostly I was confused, because we broke up, so when Spencer gave me the bike I figured it was a sign. I shouldn’t have done it, okay? I know.” She doesn’t say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I was scared and confused and upset and way too young,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but Freddie probably knows all that. “I didn’t make the rational decision. I listened to my heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie ponders this quietly for a minute. “Fine,” he finally concedes. “I get it. I mean, as much as I can get it, I get it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thank God for that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, uh,” he says. “How long have you two been together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An indeterminate amount of months,” Sam says, halfway joking. Obviously there’d been a day (or more likely, a night) where she and Cat had sat down together and come to the mutual conclusion that they really wanted to be more than just friends or roommates, and there’d been a first kiss in there somewhere, and then the hand-holding and hug-allowing increased exponentially, but if Sam’s perfectly honest, she feels like Cat’s been her girlfriend since they met. It’s funny; Cat fills a part of Sam’s heart that she didn’t realize needed occupying until it was occupied. But now Sam can’t imagine what it would be like to wake up and not hear Cat’s lilting voice from the shower, or to bully the robots at Bots without Cat alternating giggling and playing along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in Cat has become indispensable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re happy,” Freddie checks, looking up at Sam. He does it faster than she’s able to react, and for the first time since the conversation began, their eyes meet. In the dark, his brown eyes look nearly black. Sam </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends,” she says quietly. “I’m not happy that this is the first time I’ve seen you in over a year. I’m not happy that we haven’t talked a lot. I’m happy with Cat, but…I just wish my Seattle and LA lives could merge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freddie makes an aborted motion, a jerky lift-and-retreat of his hand. Sam raises an eyebrow. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a baby,” she says. She reaches for his hand and it curls into hers like instinct. For a moment, they just sit there, the darkness heavy as Sam lets herself heal. Freddie, with his warm hands and deep voice, feels like home just as much as Cat does, with her thin fingers and bright smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Now if only Carly were here.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Brown eyes, Sam realizes, are starting to become synonymous with home.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I’m a catch,” Sam says eventually, and Freddie coughs a laugh, “but I really think you should get over me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems like you didn’t have any trouble with it,” Freddie says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Sam says. “Listen to me. I’m only going to say this once, because it’s complete bonkers, so you better listen, okay?” Freddie nods. “Okay. I think you should go out with Carly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something between you guys,” Sam persists. “Come on, dude, you were in love with her for, like, ever. And she probably likes you too, or at least she did, because remember you guys went out that one time? Plus, she kissed you. It has to mean something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just called that dumb, emotional crap!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I lied. I’m a lying liar, are you surprised? Look, Carly probably likes you, you probably like her, and you’re not getting anywhere pining after me. So when she gets here tomorrow, I want you to ask her on a date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam, this is insane, even for you,” Freddie says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense, this is exactly the level of insane I always am. And as usual, the insanity of the plan is also the genius of it.” She looks at him. “Just — think on it, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even before Freddie heaves a long-suffering sigh, Sam knows he’ll do it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a shuffling noise and then, “Are you guys having a sleepover without me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both heads turn to see Cat, standing in the hallway, rubbing at her eyes and watching them. Freddie yanks his hand from Sam’s like he’s been burned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” they say in sync.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were just talking, honestly,” Sam says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cat looks thoroughly unbothered as she pads forward until she’s at the edge of the sofa bed. Without a second thought, she crawls into the bed. “What is she doing,” Freddie says, with a tone that is bordering on panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re having a cuddle party,” Cat says sleepily. She bodily forces Sam to the center of the bed, and Freddie twists out of the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cat, I really would rather not,” Sam says. She knows there’s no way she’s winning this battle. Cat is already falling back asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam makes an apologetic face and says, “You can take my bed, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, Freddie really considers it. She watches as the idea crosses his face and leaves. “Nah,” he says definitively. “I’ll stay. It is a cuddle party, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam sighs. “It would just be rude to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam shuffles down the bed to claim half of the pillow (Cat has decided pillows are not an issue, and the moment Sam lays down she wraps herself around Sam, using Sam’s shoulder as a functional pillow). Freddie pulls the blanket out from underneath the three of them and then drapes it over them all before laying his head down on the other half of the pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Night, Freddie,” Cat murmurs. “‘Night, Sam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, kiddo,” Sam says, kissing Cat’s forehead. She gets brief deja vu from earlier that night. “Goodnight, Fredward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Samantha,” Freddie says. “Don’t like the nightmares bite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asshole,” Sam yawns, snuggling further under the covers. “Turn over, would you? You’re terrible at cuddling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, because you’re such a pro,” Freddie says, and Sam can </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>the eyeroll. He does as instructed and turns, back facing Sam, and she leans her head against the space between his shoulder blades and sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she falls asleep, it’s to Cat’s even breathing and her hand flat against Sam’s stomach, Sam’s forehead warm against the fabric of Freddie’s t-shirt, and Freddie’s back a warm weight against her side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t have any nightmares. She doesn’t even dream.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i know this kind of sets up to have a second part but it probably won't bc ya boi is lazy and unmotivated and in college SO! hope you liked it...let me know if you actually want a part 2? we will see. anyway i'm on tumblr @vivilevone leave a comment if you liked it thanks uhh yeah byee</p></blockquote></div></div>
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